A Story of New Zanarkand
by Ace Voxen
Summary: This story takes place 200AS (After Sin). It's an epic adventure of history and myth, fact and truth, what we believe and what we know. Please read and rate, this is my absolute favorite. Updated often.
1. Default Chapter

_**A STORY OF NEW ZANARKAND**_

**Introduction**:

The metropolis of New Zanarkand shone with the light of a thousand stars, a beacon of illumination, obscuring the real stars of Spira with its glow.  
Being in a perpetual state of night, the rebuilt city glittered and bustled with life. All classes and races, be they Guado or Al Bhed were welcomed with open arms.  
In the very center of the city, rising like a crystal spike, dwarfing all other structures with its beauty and magnitude-was the Temple of Yu Yuna. Thousands of her worshippers flocked to her shrine to ask for forgiveness, council and help. The structure was huge, the main room, lit by blue fire in golden urns, revealing the Shrine of the Lady. A statue, well, to be more specific several statues, adorned this room, showing the Lady in several guises: A mother, a teacher, a warrior, a saint. Depending on which version of the Lady you preferred, you would still be competing for optimal worship areas with a crowd. There were constantly people in the Shrine, yet it was always eerily silent, save for the singing of the priests and the whispered prayers of the devout.  
Off the side of the temple proper were several ante-buildings, discernible by a statue or picture. The largest of which belonged to the Crimson Knights, the Great Mother's personal army, resurrected by the Great Warrior, Paine, complete with a ten-foot statue of her, in traditional Warrior Garb. They were the most feared, respected and at the same time, loved fighting force in all time, surpassing even the Crusaders of Old. They were split in half between the Warriors and the Gunners. These were then fractured into smaller special factions but all were equally talented and ruthless.  
The rest of the City, having replaced Bevelle as the Capital of Spira, could easily be divided into five specific sections. Next to the Temple and Shrine, the Machine Faction was the largest organization and took up the most room. Not only did it encompass the machina factories that supplied the rest of the word with robots, but also most of the Al Bhed population. Significantly, right next to-in fact, almost blending with this area was the Thieves Guild, started by Lady Rikku, the most infamous of Thieves. Not as popular as the Crimson Knights, the Guild was certainly more open and far more glamorous. They were lovers of a good time and knew how to have one.  
The third greatest area was the DownTown Meet. It housed the vendors and dealers as well as some of the more well-to-do citizens of New Zanarkand.  
On the other side of the Temple Complexwas the Guado. Never officially sanctioned as its own section, this place was where the few remaining Guado huddled together and also concealed the last Followers of Yevon.  
And finally, finally…there were the Beggars. The poor, the destitute, those who had failed to make their fortune in the sprawling metropolis-All came to live in the rundown, less attractive part of New Zanarkand.  
The City was at once all these parts and yet none of them. It had a life of it's own, a heartbeat…and the Temple of Yuna was its heart AND soul.  
A few miles south of this Star of Spira, nestled in all its crumbling glory, was the ancient city of Old Zanarkand ignored by most and only tended by the chosen few. It had been labeled a holy site and was off limits to everyone but the Priests and Priestess's of the Great Mother.  
Forgotten.

So very, very much had changed since the Great Mother had walked the land of Spira. For the better of course, everyone agreed. There was no fighting since the Crimson Knights instantly crushed even a whisper of dissension. For the most part, the people were happy, especially the citizens of New Zanarkand. Almost all of them. Of course, there were problems, what great society didn't have them?  
Whispers of corruption within the Temple (silenced by the Knights of course), and then there was always the distracting presence of the beggars AND some UNGRATEFUL people claimed that Yuna was not worthy of worship and that the Knights had no right to judge and punish those who refused to kneel at her shrine.  
But these voices were few and they didn't live long. The people of New Zanarkand were very loyal and protective of their Great Mother.  
Life functioned as it always had. But this was just the calm before the storm, and what better time to shake things up than the two hundredth anniversary of Sin's destruction at the hands of Yuna, Mother of Spira?

**Chapter One:**

It was the oldest story in the book. They wanted her to be a Priestess and she wanted to be a Crimson Knight.  
The argument started simply but if Kisrel's parents had known where her tirade would lead they would have glued that sword to her hand and drop-kicked her into training. But they didn't.

Family arguments had been all but non-existent in Kisrel's house until her brother was drafted into the Knights.  
While most of the Lady's Warriors were volunteers, some children-much to the elation of their parents-were chosen at birth by the 'Lady herself'.  
Kisrel's brother Toka was one of these.  
There was no one closer to Kisrel than her brother. Always something of a loner, Kisrel had had always been mature for her age and had trouble getting along with others. Her parents didn't care, they just assumed that since she would become a Priestess, what good would social skills be then?  
But Kisrel decided she had other plans.  
Her parents, Dega and Resa, were very devout about their faith. They prayed to the Lady several times a day and visited her Shrine at least twice a week. They were disappointed in the next generation's lack of zealousness but such was the case. They had done their best to instigate worship of the Lady within their own children's lives and had even been half-successful.  
When Toka was taken, he went without a fight, in complete faith that he was doing right by the Lady. Kisrel was no so easily converted. Her parents tried everything, listing Yuna's astonishing accomplishments, the miracles performed in her name and in the end…how could the whole of New Zanarkand be wrong? But Kisrel was not interested in spending her life in a Temple, all of her being devoted to the sanctity of Yu Yuna's Shrine. Not when she could travel the world with Toka, sword in hand.  
She was nearing the Year of Decision, by her birthday, she would have to either be sanctioned as a Priestess or enrolled as a Knight.  
"Is it not enough that we may lose your brother to the Knights, but we have to lose you too?" they would ask, desperately trying to appeal to her loyalty to family.  
"You didn't argue when HE left!" she would retort. They tried again.  
"There is nothing demeaning about working in the Temple, many girls do, and seem to enjoy it," the appealed to her loyalty to Yuna. But she wouldn't budge. And then she made one, fatal error. The day had been long, Kisrel having been punished to read all the Works of Yuna (who she doubted actually wrote them) all day, while her mother cleaned up the small house that was their home and her father worked at the biggest vendor franchise in the world, O'aka's. Everyone knew that the O'aka's were a crime family, but no one was going to say anything about it because those who did ended up dead. Kisrel hated that her father worked for them, but it was just one grievance of many.  
Her father was a handsome man, with short wavy hair and clear silver grey eyes. He was a strong man, which was why Kisrel was pretty sure she knew what he did, and it had nothing to do with selling potions.  
Kisrel's mother was a beautiful woman, with a soft, heart-shaped face, and long midnight black hair that reached her knees when she chose to let it down. Her figure was slim, accented by a long green dress that went well with her emerald green eyes.  
Kisrel in a way thought that Toka had gotten the better end of the bargain. Dega's, his father's, strength and smooth brown hair and Resa's bright green eyes. Kisrel had more of the slim figure, but she had her father's strong facial features and his clear grey eyes. She had black hair like her mother, but she wore it short, as a sort of defiance. She refused to wear the white dress her mother had gotten for her, and instead wore a black body suit that neither flattered nor tarnished her build.  
Anyway, on the night that Kisrel's adventure began, the three of them had sat down to dinner, Toka being away on a mission. Kisrel was brooding and moody and made the mistake of letting her emotions get in the way of her judgment. Her father was exhausted and her mother just generally stressed. The conversation began very innocently.  
"How was work?" Resa asked. Dega nodded, his mouth full. He swallowed, then answered:  
"Fine. I don't think the O'akas will be having any trouble with that upstart businessman that was moving in."  
Kisrel snorted. Her mother shot her a warning look, but her father just kept eating.  
"Have we gotten any letters from Toka?" now it was Dega's turn to ask a question. Resa sadly shook her head. Kisrel muttered something, barely touching her food.  
"Excuse me?" her father demanded.  
"Nothing," Kisrel looked away. Something belatedly dawned on her mother.  
"Did you pray before you ate?" she tried to inquire gently, but the meaning was clear. Kisrel gave her a look of pure venom. All the anger and resentment she had been feeling for the past few weeks welled up.  
"Oh, no. I guess that means that I'll be struck down, doesn't it?" she snarled.  
"Kisrel-"her mother started, but she wasn't listening anymore. Bumping the table as she rose, Kisrel shot up, like lightning.  
"I just don't understand why in Spira I am required to pray to someone who is DEAD. She's DEAD okay? She can't hear me, she's turned to dust by now!"  
Dega stood up, his body language and stance matching hers.  
"We will not have that kind of talk in this house, is that understood?" he demanded, threateningly.  
"Or what? What is SHE going to do about it? I don't think she was as great as you all seem to think she is, I'll be that she didn't even do all that stuff. It's just a way for the Priests and them to control us."  
Her father was turning a queer shade of red and her mother was on the verge of tears. Taking a calming breath, her father said quietly:  
"Yuna was a great woman. She saved Spira, everyone knows it." He looked at her, imploringly, but by now the damage was done. She knew they would never forgive her and that they would NEVER let her be anything but a Priestess for some girl she didn't even believe in. Kisrel raised her head, her eyes cold and hard.  
"I don't think Yuna ever existed," she stated almost quietly, and the hammer fell. Her mother broke down in sobs and her father sat down. He was not a violent man, at least when it came to his family. He resumed eating, pretending that Kisrel wasn't there. With a sigh of exasperation, she ran out of the kitchen and into her bedroom.  
She considered all of her options, and it seemed that only one was really feasible. If no one would believe her, she would just have to prove them all wrong. She would go out and PROVE that Yuna never existed, and even if she did, that she was not the goddess that everyone took her for. That she was just a power hungry do-gooder, and Kisrel would show them. She would show them all.  
In truth, Kisrel had never been outside New Zanarkand, in fact, because the City was so big, she had only seen half of it, but she didn't doubt that she could find her way out. If only she knew where to begin. Well, even that seemed simple enough. The place where apparently Yuna was said to have started her beginnings…Ancient Zanarkand. It was common knowledge that she wasn't born there, but no one really knew why the place held such significance for her. It was said she revered it, and so, the people revered it as well. Kisrel didn't know how she would get inside, but that was a problem for when she got there. Packing a few supplies that she knew she would need, including: A different outfit, one that she had purchased without her parents knowledge (it resembled the uniform of a Knight), a book for writing in and a dagger that Toka had given her, right before he left. She placed these, and some other items she figured would come in handy, inside a pack and slung it over her shoulder. Then she waited for her parents to go to bed. When the house seemed quiet, she slipped down to the kitchen to get some food.  
The coast seemed clear, but she moved with speed to pack non-perishables. A voice behind her startled her to such extent that she almost dropped her bag. Her mother, Resa, stood in the doorway. Kisrel hardened her face and narrowed her eyes.  
"You can't stop me, Mother."  
Her mother raised her hands.  
"I'm not going to stop you."  
Kisrel blinked. That was not the response she had been expecting. Her mother walked in fully, and stood before Kisrel, placing her hands on her daughters shoulders.  
"You have to do this. You have to see for yourself. And when you realize that you've been wrong, then you can come back to us. But your father…well, he'll take a while to cool down. So go, Kisrel. Leave."  
Kisrel didn't know whether to be relieved or offended. Resa pressed some gil into Kisrel's hand, not a lot but enough to get her out of New Zanarkand and into the rest of Spira. Kisrel stared at her mother, trying to make sense of it. Resa nodded.  
"Go."  
She went, disappearing like a ghost into the Zanarkand night.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two:

What had seemed like a relatively simple task complicated itself almost immediately.  
Kisrel couldn't just WALK to Old Zanarkand; if she wasn't picked up by the Crimson Knights for leaving the Holy City (something she knew was illegal) shoe could get robbed by marauders or worse.  
The only solution seemed to be: buy or rent an Al Bhed Speeder. Obviously, buying would be better because she didn't know when she would return but good vehicles were expensive and she didn't want to deplete her hoard of gil before she had even left New Zanarkand.  
Luckily for her the Machine Faction's factories weren't far, she just had to travel through the DownTown Meet… Having never been there alone before, Kisrel viewed the busiest section of the city through new eyes. Practically in the shadow of the Temple, the DTM was a blur of colors, smells and jostling sensations. Vendors, most owned by the O'aka Syndicate, hocked their wares, whether they were food, potions or statue of Lady Yuna herself.  
Quietly, trying not to attract undue attention on herself, Kisrel moved through the crowd getting bumped and shoved like an archaic blitzball. She only stopped when she came towards the front of the Temple. Almost all the business men here sold items pertaining to the Lady: a pendant with 'a real lock of her hair inside', yet more statues, most portraying Yuna in her Summoner or White Mage ensemble, and then there were the Spheres. Holy Spheres. Irrefutable proof that the Citizens were doing the Lady's will: she told them, and taught them her lessons all the while looking regal and divine, her eyes shining, a bright smile lighting her angelic face, and her arms outstretched in a gesture of love and devotion to her faithful followers. To be honest, Kisrel had always doubted the Spheres, Yuna was too pat, too packaged. But such heresy was punishable by death, by the Lady's own decree.  
Kisrel avoided the vendors and tried no to look at the Temple (which always seemed to be staring right at her) and yet she felt drawn, something pulling her. Some urgent need to go inside, one last time. Joining a river of worshippers, Kisrel entered through the Great Doors, ornate structures ten feet high, inlaid with gold and jewels.  
Inside the noise was hushed, a stark contrast to the cacophony outside. Loyal people of all races bent and prayed, eyes closed, mouths moving in a silent benediction.  
Despite the warmth of the fires in the room, Kisrel shivered. Moving as quickly as was politely possible, she all but dove through the crystal blue doors that separated the main Temple from the Shrine. Here it was even more quiet, but Kisrel felt herself warming. There was something comforting about the Hsrine, with its dark tapestries and lanterns of azure flame.  
Kisrel stood in the center of room-her feet on marbled flooring, her eyes sweeping the garnet walls. The voice behind her, speaking in childish innocence startled her greatly.  
_"Are you here seeking Yuna?"_  
Kisrel spun around and several things clicked in her mind. There was something very wrong with this boy. He had a wise, adult face, yet he was tiny. On the other hand it was difficult to tell with the outfit he was wearing. The style of make had gone out centuries ago, and Kisrel was sure it had never been fashionable.  
The only people who wore hoods on their heads were the Priests and Priestess', in fact, it was forbidden for laymen to. And yet, this boy, in complete audacity, wore a blue hood, under which he peered at her, with bright eyes. That was it. His eyes. They seemed to know more than they should, and Kisrel felt a strong urge to bow. But instead, she shrugged and asked, rather inanely:  
"Isn't everyone here?"  
The boy shook his head energetically, a serious, almost mournful expression on his face.  
"_No_," he replied, his voice low pitched for a child, but still carrying the traces of naivete'.  
"_They are here seeking the Lady. But you-" _he walked around her and scrutinized her, making Kisrel acutely uncomfortable, "-_You seek Yuna."_  
His tone was knowledgeable, the kind of tone of one who is fully informed about what they are talking about. Kisrel's brow furrowed. '_Seek the Lady…You seek Yuna…_'  
"What's the difference?" she inquired, confused. The mysterious child graced her with a smile, and Kisrel oddly felt like she had been given a gift. The boy bowed, and crossed his arms in front of himself, bringing his hands together, one on top of the other, that Kisrel though looked familiar, and yet couldn't place. She tried to mimic his movements, but she felt awkward and gawky. The boy nodded, then reached out his hand. Warily, Kisrel put out her own. So far the whole experience had been bizarre, and it didn't look like it was going to make sense any time soon. Silently, the boy-who-wasn't placed an object into Kisrel's palm. It was a Sphere, but unlike the Holy Spheres that glowed blinding yellow and were much smaller, this one glowed orange and was bulky. Kisrel's eyes shot from the sphere to the boy and back again. She turned the sphere over and over in her hands, getting the feeling of it.  
"_May this guide you on your journey_," the boy-who-wasn't said, cryptically.  
"Wha-" she looked up, but the boy was gone, as if he had never been there. Kisrel shook her head, trying to clear it. What in Yuna's name was going on? She looked around to see if anyone had noticed the exchange, but the room was strangely devoid of people, leaving her alone with her thoughts…and the Sphere, warming her hand.

Kisrel glanced around, suddenly feeling very foolish. But there was no one else in the room, only the fluttering of the many tapestries to give movement.  
For a while she just stood there, deciding her next move. It flashed through her mind-a fleeting though-to just throw the Sphere away, to forget this foolish mission and simply go home. But many more, louder voices, demanded that she continue, arguing that she could never return with honor if she didn't finish what she had started. And so it was, with haltering steps, that she made her way to the Sphere-reader. It was a glorified table, with a receptical for spheres. Many of the better off families had some right in their house, but it was more common to just take them to the Temple. Before she could doubt herself, Kisrel dropped the Sphere in the hole.  
There was a 'whirr' as the Screen opened, and the first images began to play across the screen.  
The setting was difficult to decipher, but after some jostling and wiggling of the camera, Kisrel recognized Luca, although the images appeared to be several decades old. Luca was all but gone now, but here, it shone in all its archaic glory.

_People milled aroung a fountain, seeming content to simply walk around. A small girl holding a ballon came up to whoever was behind the sphere recorder and held her prize out. A sweet voice said:  
"Oh, thank you. What is this for?"  
"For you, Lady Yuna," she replied, sweetly_. That was odd, Yuna didn't sound like that in the Holy Spheres. _She sounded...less confident, more...human. The little girl scampered off. A low laugh came from just off camera. The camera moved to someone who looked like the High Warrior Paine, except...she looked shorter, less powerful.  
"Just another adoring fan, huh, Yuna?" she asked, with a tight smile._ Paine never smiled, at least not in the Holy Spheres. A high giggle sounded, and Rikku appearedShe at least seemed somewhat similair, but Rikku rarely showed in the Holy Spheres, or the Records, except as a side note. It was implied that she was just a tag along who followed the Great Priestess and her High Warrior around. Yet here, they all seemed to be depending on each other.

All in all, the Sphere had to be fake. Right? Or maybe Kisrel was right all along, and the Holy Spheres were fake. She watched transfixed as the Sphere blacked out for a moment, then glowed again, again in Luca, but this time, inside the Sphere Theatre.

_A more somber looking Rikku frowned in concern.  
"What's wrong, Yunie?"_  
**YUNIE**?! No one would DARE refer to the Great Mother in such a way.  
_The camera lifted, as if the recorder was shrugging.  
"Oh, just thinking. I think I would like to do more spheres besides just this one. Starting with finding whoever stole that Dresssphere...." her voice trailed off. Rikku punched her hand in the air, a mock expression of seriousness lighting her face.  
"Yeah! We'll get that Sphere thief!"  
There was a chorus of cheers and laughter and the screen went black..._

Kisrel was left with more questions than answers, but at least she knew where to start looking. She would find that Dress-sphere, and the records of that adventure...

_Suddenly the screen came back to life. A ship, obviously the Lady's personal airship-the Celestrial-rode through the sky like a giant bird, in fact, like the bird mounted on its deck. The Lady, her hands clasped behind her back, her head tilted, and her eyes wearing a far away look, murmered to herself, as if carrying on a conversation with someone only she could see.  
"Where to leave these? If you came back, where would you look? Perhaps I'll leave them everywhere, and then someday, someone can hunt for them, as I hunted for spheres of you. Well, then I shall put the first hint here."  
She looked straight at the camera and Kisrel felt a pain shoot through her heart. Her eyes...they were so deep and sad, full of longing, and yet...peaceful.  
"The first sphere...is in Macalania, where the butterflies sing."  
Kisrel's heart fell. Macalania was gone, having faded ages ago. But there were still some ruins...perhaps...just maybe, she had a chance.  
Yuna, for it could only be her, smiled, and the screen faded for the final time._

Kisrel stood, shell-shocked. It was like Yuna KNEW, somehow KNEW what Kisrel was doing, but how? Of course, the Priests would say it was because the Lady knew everything, but Kisrel believed differently. And to have given her such a vital clue...surely Kisrel's mission was the will...of the Goddess.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three:

Needless to say that after watching the heretical Sphere, Kisrel didn't spend much time hanging around the Temple. Instead, she threaded her way through the seemingly endless crowd, until finally, after countless bruises, she found herself at the edge of Al Bhed territory. She had always been told to avoid 'those people' who were only slightly more liked than the Guado, but Kisrel had never seen exactly why the Al Bhed were so unpopular. Either way, it was irrelevant now, because she needed a speeder and they had them.

The first shop she came to was closed, the second one had burned down, and the third one had rats coming out of it. Not a very encouraging sight, but she refused to give up hope, having been fueled by the revelations in the Sphere. The thought of turning back now never even crossed her mind.

The fourth shop she came to looked a bit more promising. At least it was clean, which was more than could be said for the man behind the counter. He had a healthy layer of dirt all over him and when he smiled as Kisrel entered, he revealed yellow teeth with more than a few holes. Kisrel tried to appear as if she knew what she was doing, but nervousness made her stomache churn.  
"What can I do for you, little lady?" he asked, in what was probably supposed to sound friendly, but came off as leering. Kisrel cleared her throat and made her expression professional.  
"I would like to aquisition one of your speeders," she informed him. The man laughed, slapping his hand against his thigh, which made a most peculair sound. She raised her head, trying to look offended.  
"Is there something humorous in this situation?" she inquired, voice icy. Wiping a tear with a dirty digit, the Al Bhed shopkeeper shook his head.  
"No, we just don't get a lotta your type in here, that's all." He smiled again, then came around the counter. Without meaning to, Kisrel back pedalled to get out of his way. He opened a door, then bowed to let her go first. Surreptiously fingering the knife Toka had given her, Kisrel preceeded the man into the warehouse.

No matter the man's appearance, he was obviously talented. Many of the speeders looked spectacular, and she bet they were all incredibly fast. And incredibly expensive.

Eventually, she found one, a dark, ancient thing, that she could afford and still have some gil left over. She paid the man as quickly as possible, then got out of there, leaving the shop keeper laughing and shaking his head.

Traffic was non-existent, and she made good time. It didn't take long before she was completely out of New Zanarkand and out into a world she had never known.  
About five miles from the city, she sensed something was wrong. Unfortunately, she didn't do anything about it, before the net had snared her and ripped her off her brand new speeder, bearing her to the hard road....

With the Eternal Calm brought by the Lady, and the dissipation of the Fayth, fiends had all but disappeared from the world of Spira. The ones that were left, were actually tame, bred for experimentation and for certain forms of punishment that you only heard of in rumors.  
But with the absence of these evils, a new one had arrived. Marauders. They were Spirans, an eclectic mix of Al Bhed, Guado and others, most starting off as poor and wishing for a life of 'daring adventure' they thought stealing could provide. Marauders were, in essence...the dark side of the Thieves Guild. Actually, the Guild hated Marauders. It was a known fact that a Marauder would rather be turned over to a Crimson Knight then a Guild Member...because the Knights had more mercy.

None of this mattered to Kisrel, whose only thought was how she was going to get out of the net that she was tangled in. She felt bruising all down her back where she had made contact with the hard ground and her head was still spinning.  
She was vaguely aware of laughter, but until her eyes cleared, she couldn't make out any real shapes. Only shadows. Oddly, she felt heat coming from inside her jacket. It was the Sphere, glowing brightly. Kisrel hoped that whatever the Marauders took, they would leave the Sphere. She didn't know why she felt it was so critical, but she wouldn't let them have it-or anything else for that matter-without a fight.

After what seemed an agonizing eternity, Kisrel could make out her attackers, who so far had made no move to hurt or help her. There were seven of them. Seven...the holy number. The number of companions Lady Yuna had had on her journey.  
One of them-a burly man with a massive chest and was absolutely covered in grime- leaned very close to her. His breath stunk of ale and dead meat and he leered suggestively.  
"Now, what have we here?" he asked, inanely.  
"Maybe it's a little bird," one of his mates suggested, bringing about a chorus of crude laughter. Kisrel tried to wriggle out of her bonds, but the big man grasped her arms and yanked her up, forcefully, bruising her shoulders. He wasn't that much taller than her and she glared at him with all the force of a raging fire.  
He turned her around a few times for inspection, making her even more angry. Finally she could take no more of it. While he and his friends laughed and jived, she carefully took out her knife and began to slice at the ropes. She was close, so close, before one of the Marauders figured out what she was doing and decided to put a stop to it.  
"Hey!" he yelled, giving her a sharp backhand across the face.

"Now, now," an odd, almost melodic male voice said from somewhere Kisrel couldn't see..."That's no way to treat a lady."  
And then the world exploded in a flurry of motion.

Kisrel didn't stick around to see her rescuers; she didn't even care if that's what they were. She all but ripped the rest of the net loose from around her, and grabbing up her small bag, she raced away from the battle. The Marauders were hopelessly outnumbered but they decided to be valiant and fight anyway. Kisrel just thought they were stupid.

She had no real idea of where she was, so the first building she saw looked really inviting, especially because of its strong looking doors. Doors that took all her strength to open. And just as much to close. She leaned on one for a moment to catch her breath, then took a few seconds to let her eyes adjust to the lack of light so she could get her surroundings.  
The building appeared to be a very small, VERY OLD, Yevon Temple. They had either been abandoned or reworked as Yu Yuna Temples over the years. This one was obviously one of the former. It seemed like there was a foot of dust over everything, and the air was close, muggy, making it hard to breath.

She walked forward, just trying to get away from whatever horrors were going on outside and she was a light. It was dim, she had to strain her eyes to see it, but it was real. It glowed a light blue and Kisrel felt a ray of hope as-

She fell through the floor.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four:

**_Is it an inside hurt or an outside hurt?_**  
_It's an inside hurt. My heart hurts, mommy_

It was so very, very cold. She shivered, which woke her up. The world swam before her eyes, but that didn't matter much since it was bathed in darkness.  
Kisrel sat up, against the protests of her screaming back. She looked up first, at the hole which had delivered her to her current status of ache and pain. And she blinked. And then she blinked again. She had fallen a good thirty feet! By all laws of nature she should be dead! And yet all she had was some bruising. She squinted as she tried to remember the events after she had headed towards the mysterious blue light.  
She had felt panic surge through her as she realized she was falling, but then time and space blurred into nothingness. She did recall a vauge feeling of slowing down, as if a soft wind had hindered her plummet. She shook her head and closed her eyes. None of it made sense. Kisrel pressed her hands hard against her throbbing temples, trying to put things in order. Then she laughed, an odd sound in the vacancy of her temporary prison.  
"Well this is a good start."

She didn't waste time. As soon as she felt able, Kisrel stood up and looked around. It was incredibly dark, but not pitch black. She moved her hands down a wall that felt like it was covered in a thick layer of slime. Repressing her gag reflex, she used the wall as a reference until she reached a door.

A single torch burned in this small room. Kisrel didn't even bother speculating why it was lit. With all the other surreal experiences she had had so far, one blazing torch in a room no one had stood in for two centuries seemed almost normal.  
It was what the torch revealed that interested Kisrel. A Sphere. Just like the one the strange boy-that-wasn't had given her. She moved towards it carefully, testing each wooden board of the floor before placing all her weight on it.  
The firelight cast elusive and frightening shadows on the blackened walls of the Inner Chamber, like watchers, silently observing everything she did. Kisrel tried to ignore them.  
A floor board creaked, and she almost jumped in startlement. But it was only a monkey, with wide expressive eyes and long flat ears. It looked at her, balefully, but she had no desire to pet it. She knew that these 'adorable' creatures were vicious thieves and could rob you blind.  
"Shoo," she hissed, and after giving her a look that could have meant anything, the little monkey obeyed.   
Kisrel turned her attention back to the Sphere. It glowed and pulsed, beckoning her. She felt no resistance to obey. Reaching her hand out tentatively she grasped the bright object.

_"That wasn't a very feel-good ending was it?"  
"People who want happy endings have to write their own."_

There was no picture, only feelings and sounds. Kisrel caught her breath. She had to strain to hear the voices but the emotion came through loud and clear. Satisfaction tainted by dissapointment. Kisrel fell to her knees, but she was barely aware of it.

_"Dr.P, what is your diagnosis?"  
"The hardest person to know is yourself." _

**Humor. Concern. I/She was at war with herself.**

_"What is it?"_  
**Terror. Sadness.**  
_"It's an Aeon!"  
"YOU MUST STOP!"_  
**Desire, urgency. Confusion.**  
_"You want to get yourself killed? We have no choice! Fight, we have to!" _  
**Adrenaline. Ending. Exhaustion. **  
_"Thank you, Paine. You were right. We had to fight it, didn't we?" _  
**Loss. **

Kisrel gasped, as the scene ended. She had no energy left in her, only a deep seated sadness. There was no doubt in her mind who or what she had just felt. It was Yuna. But what did the Sphere mean? What was its significance? She growled in frustration. Every time she thought she was closer to getting answers she was only left with more questions.  
"What are you trying to tell me?" she whispered into the darkness.

Her heart nearly stopped when it answered.  
"Well first, I want you to slowly stand up and back against the wall. Then I want YOU to tell ME what you're doing here."  
At first Kisrel was afraid it might be the Marauders, that they had followed her here. But the leader's voice had been rough and coarse while this one, though obviously male, was smooth, almost melodic. And very self-assured. She did as she was told, but her dark eyes flared with defiance.  
"I don't have to tell you anything,"she announced. A laugh, from somewhere in the shadows. Quiet but sure.  
"That's true. But seeing as how I just saved your life, I think a little appreciation is appropriate." The speaker finally showed himself. She took in a dozen details at once. He was most definitely Al Bhed. And not the kind that had all sorts of other races mixed in. Full blood true Al Bhed. You could tell from his bright blonde hair, looking as if he had been born in the sun. His height, just slightly above average, though that wasn't typically Al Bhed. And he was cocky. He stood with his hands hooked into his pants, his head tilted to one side as he observed her with unveiled interest. She felt like a bug, not being use to such attention.  
"Well?" he asked, expecting an answer.  
"Well what? I was being attacked by those Marauders, and decided to hide in here. Then I fell through the floor." She shrugged as if the answer had been obvious the whole time and he had been just too dense to get it.  
"Yeah. I saw the hole on the way here." His expression changed to one of suspicion.  
"And-"he continued, "-I find it hard to believe you would survive such an event."  
_That makes two of us_, Kisrel thought, but kept it to herself. Instead she just offered another shrug. He stepped closer, giving her an even better look at him. True Al Bhed, with the same crystal green eyes and smooth tan skin. Kisrel tried to imagine how she looked at that moment. Tussled and dirty, her hair in dissaray and her clothes torn. And not caring in the least.  
"What's your name?" he asked, abrubtly changing the subject. Kisrel licked her lips which had become dry and dusty. She didn't know if she really wanted to tell him, she didn't even know if she trusted him. But if he had really saved her life...  
"Kisrel." There she said it. No taking it back now. She looked at him expectantly. Taking his cue, the Al Bhed rescuer tapped his chest and replied:  
"Zavv. Now that the pleasantries are over, let's say we get outta here, eh?" He reached out his hand. She eyed it warily, but in reality, what else was she going to do? She tried to look like she was in control of the situation and strode past him, but suddenly he reached out and grabbed her arm. She was about to protest VERY loudly, whne she happened to look down. She'd been about to walk off another drop off, only this time she couldn't see the bottom. She stared into the face of her two time hero and felt her face flush red heat. He gave a broad smile as he pulled her away from the offensive hole.  
"That's two you owe me, kiddo."  
Not knowing what else to say, she just shook her head and replied:  
"Whatever."

Kisrel followed Zavv outside...and beheld her first sunrise.  
Zavv looked at her sharply as she gasped, first in suprise and then sheer delight. And what a sunrise. The sky was a splash of vivid, vibrant colors of every hue and tone. From the horizon, the lowest point she could see, the light was pure gold, brighter than Zavv's hair. Above that was the most fiery shade of red she had ever seen, matched only by the deep crimson above it. Higher than that, the last vestige of night clung to Spira, holding on desperately in a cobalt blue. But that receded quickly leaving only light azure in its place.  
How long she stood there she could not recall. Only that it was the most spectacular thing she had ever seen.

Finally, she deigned to look at Zavv who was in turn, looking at her, with a mixed expression of amusement and confusion.  
"What?" she demanded, defensively, brutally aware of her lapse in self-control. He shrugged non-committally.  
"I've never seen the sun before, okay?"  
He blinked.  
"What, like...never?"  
She shook her head, energetically. He gave a low whistle. Kisrel would have said more but at that moment the rest of his party decided to arrive.  
There were only four of them. Three males and one girl. The latter was obviously not thrilled by Kisrel's presence, as she made clear by asking, belligerence oozing from ever word:  
"Who's she?" Two words. And yet they implied a dozen emotions, the least of which was disapproval. Kisrel wanted to snarl, but she kept her emotion in check.  
"This is our 'rescuee', Dom. She says her name is Kisrel."  
Kisrel didn't miss the implication that he believed her to be lying. 'Dom', as Zavv had called her, studied Kisrel, up and down, missing no details. Kisrel was beginning to tire of being remorselessly judged and critisized by strangers.  
"Now, if you don't mind-"  
"What were you doing down there?" Dom cut her off. Kisrel glanced at Zavv who had been noticeably silent. He nodded in encouragement, but it didn't make her feel any better. Still, she didn't like lying, even to strangers, so she came out with it.  
"I make for the Macalania Ruins."  
She waited as surprise exploded on their faces. Zavv spoke first.  
"Why?"  
Kisrel raised her head, but showed nothing on her face but cool self-possession.  
"My reasons are my own." Dom snorted.  
Kisrel turned and looked at her. She was pretty in that Al Bhed kind of way, with the same sun-kissed blonde hair that Zavv had, but high-lighted with just a hint of red. Her eyes were a pale blue, icy but clear. She was shorter than Kisrel, and slighter in build, but she had a sinewy strength and an agile form. Her outfit was a bit less concealing than Kisrel's one piece black body suit, but then an outfit such as Kisrel's would not be practical in the desert. Instead, Dom wore a two piece outfit, the top being a green tank that tapered in at the neck, and cut off just below her bust line, exposing most of her abdomen. It was matched by a pare of light green shorts that didn't leave much to the imagination but were made to move in. She was very beautiful and well proportioned and obviously felt threatened. Kisrel was night to her day, darkness to her sunlight. Silently, Zavv watched the mental battle, his own expression, unreadable. Suddenly, his head snapped up. Kisrel watched his face go from bland to intent. He didn't look so care-free now, in fact she found the intensity of his eyes disconcerting.  
"What is it?" Dom asked, ignoring Kisrel's presence entirely. Zavv swore in Al Bhed. Kisrel blushed, she had heard such words used before by...lower born. Abruptly, he turned away, but glanced back over his shoulder to say:  
"Bring her."  
There was no questioning such a tone, but Dom did anyway.  
"But-but she's a Zanarkite!" she exclaimed, mortified. Zavv shook his head, as if a fly was buzzing nearby.  
"I don't care. With what's coming this way, I refuse to leave anyone-" he paused for effect,"-ANYONE behind. Now...bring...her."  
Finality.

For some odd reason, when Kisrel had heard Zavv say 'Bring her' she had assumed it would be in some nice, reasonable fashion. But no. Dom handed her a dirty rag that had probably once been orange but was now a stale brown color. Unfortunately, the Al Bhed girl didn't deing to tell Kisrel what it was for, and when Kisrel didn't do what she was suppose to-ie, wrap it around her face-Dom punched her straight in the face, rendering her unconscious.

"Well what was I suppose to do?"  
"Not knock her out!"  
"She can't find it. None of them can."  
"This is different."  
"You only say that because-"

The pain in her head was wearing off, giving away to icy anger. She sat up and became aware that the disgusting rag was still on her face, she could smell it. Sweat and blood and slime. She tried to tear at it but found that for the second time in as many days, she had been bound.  
At least all her movement had attracted the attention of her rescuers/captors.  
She felt strong but careful arms, lift her up, and untie her. She knew it was Zavv but that didn't stop her fury from unleashing itself. The instant she was free, she was upon him, verbally, because she knew she couldn't take him physically.  
"How dare you? I-" she stopped. She sounded adolescent. Putting on her coolest expression she said, very distinctly.  
"You WILL let me go. Now. I-" she was forced to stop again, this time by Zavv's rich laughter. And it wasn't a chuckle. His head thrown back and his chest heaving, he guffawed with gusto. Kisrel was confused to say the least. He threw his arms out, and Kisrel noticed for the first time where she was. A whistle came through her mouth. Now THAT was a Temple. It shone in the sun, a Shrine to the sun. Every orifice gleamed gold, every window stained with sunrises. And it was HUGE. It had a rounded dome, that opened as they neared it, basking in the radiance of the day. Zavv took her arm.  
"Welcome to _Dra Dasbma uv dra Necehk Cih_. The Temple of the Rising Sun."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five:

For someone who had never before seen the sun, Kisrel was beginning to find its presence irritating. It burned at her eyes, and made her skin crawl. Luckily, she didn't stay outside for too long, as she was shuttled like cattle into The Temple.  
Dome made no secret about her quarrel's about this, occasionally muttering things like:  
"Can't believe this-so stupid-she'll tell...." but Kisrel decided to ignore her all together.

They entered the courtyard, a wide open space, inhabited by a few Al Bhed, who mingled and discussed various things, but Kisrel didn't understand them. Several heads turned when the six of them entered the courtyard, followed by a chorus of cheers. Apparently, Zavv was incredibly popular. Kisrel was left standing behind a medium-sized group of people, unacknowledged. She took the brief moment of peace to survey her surroundings. Everything was done in a flame or sun motif, which shimmered and glowed in the morning light.  
The doors seemed to be made of pure glass, outlined in copper and bronze. Few statues graced the pavilion, but there was no lack for visual stimulation.

In the middle of the courtyard, stood a fountain of cascading blue light. Light made of water, falling in sparkling sheets to pool in the bottom of a burnished silver. It's edge looked so inviting, Kisrel made no attempt to stop herself from sitting down and staring into the water. Her face was brown and dusty, her black hair streaked with green slime. But her eyes had aquired a new light, a dark sheen that she almost found frightening.

A hand on her shoulder pulled her out of her speculation.  
"Come, daring Kisrel, and meet my entourage!" Zavv boomed, enthusiastically, puffing his chest out like a chocobo. Kisrel glared at him through heavy lids, but he just laughed and slapped her hard on the back.  
She was introduced to a dozen Al Bhed, half of whose names she couldn't pronounce let alone remember.  
Some took her hand and smiled shyly, some just stared at her and some actually snarled at her. She took them all in turn and reacted the same way always. Not reacting. She knew Zavv and Dom studied her, to see if she would crack, if she would give way. It only hardened her resolve to forfeit them that satisfaction.  
Finally, Zavv waved the spectators off.  
"Go on, get back to work. Lazy stiffs." he kicked one of them playfully on the butt, a young girl, far younger than Kisrel, who squealed and scampered off, but probably not to work. She was playing ball with some of the young boys, kicking it around and bouncing it off the walls. Kisrel was shocked. Such behavior would never be allowed inside a New Zanarkand temple. But this was not, as she was constantly being reminded, New Zanarkand.

Life bustled around her, leaving her behind as the day wore on. No one spoke a word to her, no one asked if she wanted help, or wanted to help. And she didn't offer. She sat on the fountain, letting its fine spray pelt her back. She was beginning to chafe under the harsh light of the sun, but she didn't want to shed her black body suit. It wasn't that what she had underneath it was indecent, it was just that she wanted to be ready if she was ever to make an escape.  
But escape from where? She had no idea how long they had travelled, how far they had gone. She knew nothing of the world she called home, and therefore, there was no realistic way she could risk running off, unready for whatever challenges might come her way.  
She reached inside her jacket, which she had finally taken off (though had taken great pains to keep it near) and reassured herself with the tactile feeling of the Sphere. No one had searched her-they had granted her THAT decency.

She had resisted touching the water, afraid to break its purity. But it was so hot...and she was so tired...

"NO!"   
She wavered, close to blacking out. She tapered near the water-the cool blue water, that sang its siren song so well...  
She pitched forward, but missed the water.  
Then there was nothing...

Kisrel awoke to feel strong arms supporting her. She opened her eyes, to find herself face to face with a dark skinned Al Bhed, wearing blue goggles that obscured his eyes. The corners of his mouth twitched upward, but when he spoke it was with seriousness. Or not.  
"Well that's what you get for wearing all black in the sun, little lady."  
Kisrel muttered something about the bloody sun, and the Al Bhed threw back his head and gave a deep hearty laugh. She shook her head and looked around.  
Everything was just as before, she had only been out for a few minutes. She didn't recognize her Al Bhed support column' as one of the myriad of faces she'd been thrust towards during her short stay at the Sun Temple.

Zavv was there too, his arms folded across his chest, and an amused expression lighting his face. His humor made her angry, but she kept it contained. She turned back to the dark skinned Al Bhed.  
"Thank you, sir. I hope I didn't taint your sacred pool."  
The Al Bhed chuckled, and motioned Zavv over.  
Which he did, although 'sauntering' might be a more appropriate term. Zavv motioned to the Al Bhed, who had not yet removed his hand from Kisrel's shoulder.  
"This is Khai. He's just returned from-" Zavv waved his arm vaguely in the direction of the wall around the courtyard, "-out there."  
Khai nodded, then stood up. Kisrel stood as well, though she weaved a moment, as she regained her balance. Her ineptitude was painfully obvious to her. She had no doubt that Dom was laughing her head off somewhere, but she willed herself not to care. She rarely had cared what ANY one had though of her save Toka.  
Kisrel gave Khai a more direct look, since that seemed to be the norm around here.  
He wore no shirt, but did wear a blue vest, revealing a broad dark chest, tanned with exposure and scarred from sand and the evidence of many battles. His hair was short, much shorter than Zavv's, and a little curly. It looked like it had been brown at one time, but had bleached out to a pale brown. He looked older, wiser than some of the others, but he smiled a lot, revealing a row of square white teeth. Kisrel found herself feeling safer in his presence, he had that quiet strength she always imagined the High Warrior possessed.

Khai critiqued her, but she didn't find it as discomforting, since he didn't look like she was meat for a slaughter.  
"So this is your fallen bird, eh, Zavv?"  
Kisrel's eyes narrowed and she sent a dagger glance in the direction of the now blushing blonde.  
"I don't think SHE sees it that way, Khai. Anyway," he cleared his throat, "We still haven't figured out what to do with her."  
Kisrel growled quietly, though she knew she heard it. There were few things she loathed more than being discussed as if she weren't present. She tilted her chin up in a quiet gesture of defiance and said, quiet calmly:  
"I don't see why that decision is up to you."  
Khai laughed again, slapping his hand against his billowy white pants.  
"You sure can find 'em, buddy," it looked like he winked, but that was impossible to see behind his dark goggles. Zavv shrugged, helplessly, than laughed as well.  
"So have you showed her yet?" Khai asked, innocently. Zavv sombered instantly. Kisrel marveled at the fact he could change expressions so quickly. She kept her own face safely neutral.  
"No. I thought it best to wait for your return."  
Khai nodded, obviously understanding something they both thought best to keep from Kisrel. She was becoming perturbed. Macalania was who knew how far away! And if she kept getting set back like this SHE would be two hundred years old.  
Before she could question further, Zavv struck out his hand. Kisrel stared at it, uncomprehending.  
"I think he wants you to take his hand," Khai offered, dryly. Color stained Kisrel's cheeks, but she took the gloved appendage anyway. If only because she knew it would bother the hades out of Dom...

'There' as Khai so distinctly described it, turned out to be the Temple itself. It wasn't as large as the Temple in New Zanarkand, but it had a majesty all its own. Where the NZ Temple was dark and subdued, this one screamed with life and bright lights.  
There were windows-WINDOWS!- that allowed the sun to stream in, illumniating a rich carpet alive with golds and reds that seemed to swarm before her eyes.  
The fires here were orange, not blue, and they flickered quietly, as if afraid to break the restful silence that enveloped the whole structure.  
Zavv didn't let go of her hand as they headed into what had to be the inner-sanctum.. It was darker in here, lit only by dark fire.  
Dom waited for them inside, and Kisrel received some inner satisfaction at seeing that her initial assessment had been correct. Dom took one look at their locked hands and scowled, screwing her pretty face up into an odd shape. Kisrel made no move to let go.  
Khai followed closely behind, a half-bemused expression on his face. But he quickly became intently serious when he stood before Kisrel and said:  
"What we are about to show you has not been revealed to any but us in-" he faltered, as if unsure, 'A very, VERY long time."  
Kisrel didn't even ask why they felt the need to show it to her, she just silently allowed herself to be led along-Khai in front, her next to Zavv, and Dom in the rear-along a dark hallway, lit by low burning torches. Until they came to an INNER-inner chamber. The Temple was bigger than it looked from the outside. The air was cooler down here, and Kisrel found herself wondering, in a dispassionate sort of way, if there was a wind tunnel circulating somewhere.  
In the center of the small room (and it was small, barely fitting the four of them) was a Sphere.  
"Of course," Kisrel muttered. The others ignored her. Zavv took her hand, and pressed it against the Sphere. Light, harsh and cold, blinded her.

_The Al Bhed were building something, though at this early stage, it was hard to tell what. They scurried about like ants, bustling and calling out comments to one another. In the center of it all, stood, of all things, a small boy._

The screen darkened, but before her eyes could adjust to the darkness, another scene opened.

_Carnage. Everywhere. Bodies, and parts of bodies strew here and there, cries and moans and screams. Pain. Deeper than any physical wound cutting like a blade to the soul.  
"We should never...have...built it..." _

The Sphere went cold in her hand. She found the faces of several sad people staring at her, wondering how she would react. She took a deep breath, but before she could say anything, the world shook.  
Dust fell off the walls, and Kisrel found it hard to keep her balance. The floor moved as if it was water, and Dom let out a cry, more anger than fear. Zavv retook Kisrel's hand as Khai yelled:  
"This way! Move it!"

It seemed to take a lot less time to get out as it did to get in. Just like in the Sphere, Al Bhed ran all over, taking up arms and positions.  
"What is it?" Kisrel asked, breathlessly, but no one deigned to answer.  
They reached a ladder, Khai moved up it so fast he looked like a monkey. Zavv moved slower with more grace, and Dom was nimble as a reed. For her part, Kisrel held her own, making good time up the rung. She thrust herself over the top and stood on the wall overlooking a vast desert. And a monster.

It tore under the sand like an underground tornado, ripping up all in its path. Admittedly, that wasn't much, but the fact that it was just sand, did nothing to alleviate its terrifyingly awesome might.  
"What is it?" she whispered.  
"A Sandworm," Zavv replied, through tightly gritted teeth. Kisrel turned to him. He stared straight ahead, letting no emotion but intense concentration show, though a muscle in his strong jaw twitched.  
"But the fiends are gone, there should be NO more sandworms," she argued. He didn't turn to face her.  
"This one is no fiend. At least, not in the traditional sense. This Sandworm is a machina." Her eyes widened, and she looked out again. But it was HUGE, no machina that she knew was that size. There was just...no...way...  
"What is it doing?" she wondered, aloud. He answered:  
"It's coming home," as if that was explanation enough. But it wasn't. Not for her.  
"What? How do you know?"  
This time he did face her, and the expression, the pain, in his eyes was heart wrenching.  
"I know because...I built it."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six:**

The hulking monstrosity known only as The Sandworm, continued its undersand rampage.  
"Deploy the rangers!" Khai yelled, all semblance of lightness vanishing. Kisrel watched as Machina Rangers, small robots, with impaling lance arms-march fearlessly (not that it's difficult to walk to your death when you're a mindless automaton) towards certain destruction.  
Finally, the great behemoth revealed itself, surfacing in all its raging glory. The sun glinted off its silver frame. In its awesome maw shone rows upon rows of jagged silver teeth. If that wasn't bad enough it also-  
"Please tell me it's not shooting it's TEETH at us!" Kisrel cried out, but Khai just shrugged. That was when Kisrel realized that Zavv was gone. With his golden head, it didn't take long to locate him. He stood on the highest tower, looking out over the desert. The wind ruffled his hair, but other than that he was completely still. She took one step in his direction when the world rumbled again, as the Sandworm shot more of its dentalia at the walls, all the while swallowing Rangers whole.  
"What do we do?" But it was a moot question, since the Al Bhed were already high in gear, gathering their weapons.  
The battle continued in a swirl of sand and blood. It took all of Kisrel's concentration just to stay on both legs, so when Khai yelled, in full authority:  
"Kisrel, I need you to man one of the turrets!"  
All she could yell was:  
"WHAT?!"  
But she didn't hesitate after that. Stumbling and shuffling along the wall, diving to avoid iron projectiles and generally trying to stay away from the snipers that shot vainly at the roaring machina.  
The turret, was just a bigger gun, with longer range. It was black, making it scorching hot under the wicked sun. Kisrel ignored the minor annoyance, and took aim.  
The Sandworm wasn't alone, it had smaller 'wormlings' swarming around it. Knowing she could do no real damage to the Worm itself, Kisrel aimed and fired at the smaller wormlings. If it moved she shot at it. And to her surprise, she actually hit most of them, sending them to oblivion in a shower of orange sparks. The world shattered like glass, and reformed and all she could see was-_black, move, aim, fire, review, take aim, fire..._

The battle ended as abruptly as it had begun. The Worm turned and burrowed deep into the sand, disappearing below its depths. The carnage it left behind didn't leave with it though...

Kisrel collapsed in a boneless heap. Sweat, sickly sweet, made her clothes cling to her, making her itch, but she was too tired to even do that. A gloved hand reached down-it was Khai, helping her up. She accepted his offer only because she didn't believe she could do it on her own. Her pride was strong, but not enough to beat her reasoning.  
She stood up and looked around. The Machina Rangers had taken the worst of it, but some projectiles had found their targets in the Al Bhed. Kisrel tried to tear her eyes away from the carnage but it seemed that everywhere she looked, death greeted her with unseeing open eyes.

Zavv hadn't moved from his rooted spot on one of the towers.  
"What is he doing?" Kisrel asked, curious, gazing at his stiff form. Khai looked up, having been locked in deep thought. He waved a dark hand as if the question was inconsequencial..  
"Oh, he's always like that after a metting with the Worm."  
To puncuate this comment the walls surrounding the Temple rumbled and shuddred.  
Khai went back to tinkering with the Al Bhed gun in his hand, oblivious to his less than stable surroundings.  
"Why did you build it?"  
Kisrel tried to sound flippant, unconcerned. She didn't want to sound too interested, he might become suspicious.  
Fortunately, he didn't press her and replied, without looking up:

"There was this boy, just a weed in the desert, who had the Gift. He was a genius with Machina, could make, break or fix ANYTHING if it was made of metal. And one day he got bored, so to amuse himself, he drew up some schemantics for a very special machina. theoretically it was for mining but in reality it was just a young boy's fancy.  
But you know what? It worked. Or rather, ti could work. At the time I was a still a fairly young man, as were most of the Al Bhed here. We got caught up in his enthusiasm-it was contagious. We spent so much time trying to figure out how to do it that we never once stopped to consider if we should. Day by day we added a row of teeth, a layer to its hide. It was the most incredible thing we had ever seen and it had all been though up by a nine year old boy."  
The wrench in his hand never stopped moving as he tightened and loostened various bolts and gears.. His movements were smooth and fluid, and completely automatic. This was a man who knew his job.

Kisrel's mind drifted back to the battle. It was a blurr now, dark at the edges with only feelings-fear, adrenaline, anger-shadowed by an overwhelming need to _survive_.  
One instance played vividly in her memory though.

**She'd been on her way to the turret, when an especially violent wave rocked the walls, making her fly forward...towards the desert...towards the monster....A tan arm had reached out and caught her, saving her from such a wretched fate. She was suprised, shocked rather, to see Dom, clinging tightly to a ledge, holding her up. With a final tug, she pulled Kisrel to safety. Not knowing what else to say, she just murmured:  
"Thank you."  
"Don't mention it," she growled fiercely, in a manner that implied she REALLY didn't want Kisrel to mention it. Ever. Again.  
Fine by her.**

Kisrel felt a little dizzy, but in a way, better than she had felt for a few days. It was finally sinking in that she had been involved-_actively_ involved-in a **battle**. And although it could never be said they WON, at least she had survived it.  
She pressed her back against one of the remaining walls and closed her eyes. She didn't feel like asking any more questions about the Worm, she didn't even want to think about it.  
Khai glanced at her, his eyes piercing underneath his goggles.  
"You've been a bit misused, Ms.Zanarkand."  
Kisrel didn't deny her heritage, she just absently lifted one shoulder, in a vague semblance of a shrug and said:  
"Don't worry, Master Khai, it wasn't any of your people."  
Khai chuckled deep and low.  
"They are not my people."  
Kisrel's brow furrowed.  
"But I thought you were the leader."  
He shook his head, a broad affable smile on his face.  
"Oh no. I'm the best fighter, sure, they'll listen to me in times of battle. But their hearts-their loyalty-belongs to Zavv. Probably has to do with his golden blood."  
"Golden blood?" Kisrel was becoming more confused. Khai coughed nervously, as if he had said too much. He swiveled his head around, to see if anyone was listening. Then he leaned forward, to say in confidence:  
"Zavv is one of the last true Al Bhed in all of Spira."  
"What?"   
Khai nodded. "People like me, yeah, we're Al Bhed. But we've got a lot of other things in us too. I'm not even sure of all that's in my blood. But Zavv-pure breed. Dom too. There's only a handful left and soon they'll all be gone."  
Kisrel looked back to Zavv, who had finally moved-and was staring at her from across the wall. Well, that explained a lot. Another thought jumped around in Kisrel's head, begging for her attention.  
"Why did you show me that Sphere? What was its purpose?"  
"To prepare you. To help you understand."  
"Understand what?" Kisrel whispered. But Khai would say no more, standing up, and leaving her alone...so far from home, and yet happier than she had ever been in the stuffy streets of New Zanarkand.

_We had to fight it didn't we?_  
**My heart hurts mommy**  
_Don't mention it_  
**I built it...**

Kisrel felt chilled. She sat up, against the protests of her aching back. But that's to be expected when you've spent half the day propped up against a stone wall. She looked around. The place seemed almost deserted. Night had fallen as she rested, and now she looked at the stars. It was strange, she had seen stars her entire life, and yet she hadn't _seen_ them before. But these stars were so...alien, so unfamiliar. Like the people here.  
She stood up and stretched her arms out. Several joints popped but she ignored them. Walking down the only remaining ladder (the rest were scrap wood) she dropped ungracefully down to the sand. Some torches were still lit, a direct line from her to the Temple. She didn't know if it was coincidence or a sign, but she walked toward the bronze structure anyway.

Inside she heard the song of the wounded. Cries, and screams, and sobs. A temple turned into a hospital. She shuddered at the smell. Blood and tears and excrement. The smell of death. She moved past, although several soldiers and engineers, limbs missing, would sometimes grab her arm as she went past and mutter something in Al Bhed, but she shook herself free of them and ran past, leaving the carnage behind, and all but flew through the crystal doors into the inner sanctum where such uncleanliness would not be tolerated.  
Zavv stood there, his back turned towards her. She was afraid he might still be...upset, but when he turned as she entered, his face held nothing but smiles and humor.  
"Ah, there you are. Khai said you were a natural born Gunner, he was quite impressed."  
Kisrel stood, shocked. This was a completely different person than the mortified boy-in-a-man's-body she had seen overlooking the battle. It was if the Worm hadn't come at all.  
"Are-are you all right?" she asked, though it was more his mental health she was worried about than his physical well being. He looked at her puzzled.  
"Of course. Why-" he stopped as Dom came in, bloody up to her elbows. She'd been helping the wounded in the chamber beyond.  
"Final count: eleven dead, around thirty wounded."  
A muscle jumped in Zavv's cheeck, but he smiled anyway.  
"We've had worse."  
Dom's eyes widened in horror, but shooting a look in Kisrel's direction, she kept her mouth shut. Dismissing Dom with a nod, Zavv turned back to Kisrel.  
"And now, my lady Gunner, will you allow yourself to eat some of our generous food and regale me with furthur tales of your adventures?"  
Kisrel blinked. What further tales? But she was starving so she just nodded dumbly and followed him.

Kisrel had never eaten ethnic food, her mother had always been very picky on the family diet, but she found herself not at all averse to the meal prepared on teh table. In some far off corner of her mind, she wondered who had found time to cook such a dinner, but she was afraid it would be a tonberry with a butcher knife.

A second thing she learned was that it was taboo to speak during a meal. Supper was for eating and that was all you did with your mouth. That didn't bother her, too much, she was afraid if someone spoke the moment would shatter. The food was warm and spicy, but smooth, and went down easily. The drink was a bit more difficult to describe. It was definetely cool, but it warmed her from the inside out.

When the meal was over, Zavv continued his tour of the Temple, with Dom following, glowering behind them. There were chambers for praying, chambers for fasting, chambers for sleeping, any need was met.  
As they past through one corridor, bathed in honey light, Kisrel was reminded of something.  
"Zavv, Khai said you had 'golden blood'-" she saw Dom tense up, but Zavv just nodded, amicably, "-he said it was because you were true Al Bhed. Is that correct?"  
Zavv shifted his weight.  
"Yes. More or less."  
She knew there was more, but couldn't decide if she wanted to press the matter. But he took that decision, like so many others, out of her hands, by sighing, and reaching in the folds of his long coat (although she didn't see any pockets) and revealing a glowing object.  
"Another Sphere," Kisrel breathed.  
"No! You mustn't!" Dom hissed, sharply. His head swiveled towards her and his gaze was awful.  
"She has to _see_. She has to _know_," he replied harshly. Kisrel didn't wait for them to finish their debate, she thrust her hand out and pulled the blue sphere out of Zavv's gloved hand.

_There was the High Warrior Paine holding...a baby? **She didn't remember the histories mentioning a child of the Warrior.** Of course, that wasn't the only thing off. How did she manage to have a very **blonde** baby?  
"Rikku, will you please take this crying lump?" she demanded to someone behind the camera, although there was a jesting lilt to her tone.  
"Okay, okay. I swear, you'd think he was a fiend or something," the Al Bhed mother came out, not looking at all like she had given birth to a healthy baby boy, and took her child in her arms. Which was when the father decided to make an appearance.  
He had a commanding presence and a charming smile. And a black eyepatch.  
He gave a lopsided grin to the camera and said:  
"Yuna, why don't you come out from behind your precious camera and get a picture with us?" he asked.  
"Oh, I don't know. You guys make such a cute family..."  
Rikku ran off camera, then reappeared dragging the High Priestess ungracefully behind her.  
Together they stood, Rikku, Gippal (holding his smiling little boy), a very uncomfortable looking Paine, and Yuna, right in the center. They smiled, totally happy, not at all worried for themselves or the world. They were safe..._  
The screen went black.

Kisrel blinked.  
"You mean....you're Golden Blood comes from...Rikku and Gippal?" she asked, bewildered. He nodded, silently. Dom let out a slow breath.  
"Well...that explains a lot." Kisrel couldn't hink of anything else to say. There was a long awkward silence. Finally, Zavv broke it.  
"You see, their son...his name was Ty, but no one remembers why he was named that. He also had a sister. Named Nhadala. They lived very happily until..." his voice trailed off and he stared into nothingness. Then he took a deep breath and continued.  
"In any case, Both of them had children, from which comes...me. So now you know."  
Kisrel nodded.  
"Now, I know."

With all the little-and not so little-revelations all wrapped up, Kisrel felt that it was truly time to leave. And she wasn't inclined to ask permission.  
Fortunately for those around her, they weren't inclined to argue.  
The Al Bhed were obviously not thrilled with her presence, which they made abundantly clear with pointed looks and none-too-subtle whispers.  
Khai tried to reassure her that it was nothing (therefore proving it was), and Kisrel found, to her suprise, that it actually bothered her. What they thought. She had grown a lot of respect for these nomadic people: living on the edge, depending on each other. But she was glad to leave. The information she had gleaned from her 'side quest' had only wetted her interest. She wanted to continue her journey, but first she had to convince the Al Bhed, namely Zavv, to let her go.

"And where will you go?" he asked when she presented her request.  
"I told you. I'm going to Macalania." She studied him through heavy lidded eyes, trying to gauge his reaction. But he kept it from his smooth visage.  
"And may I ask why?' He tried to sound flippant, unconcerned. He didn't want to sound too interested and make her suspicious. She glanced away. Inside her head, warring thoughts and emotions clashed in epic battle.  
On one hand, she felt that he would laugh at her crusade for truth. Or, almost as frightening, would wish to aid her. Not that she believed she didn't need help. She just didn't want it from HIM. And besides, with all that she had seen, how could she deny the existence of Yuna. Not so much to change the subject as to clarify the situation, she asked:  
"I noticed no statues of the Lady here. Is this not a Temple of Yu Yuna?"  
Zavv chuckled.  
"No. We do not worship the High Summoner as a goddess."  
Just days before this would have shocked her, that any civilization would not worship the Great Mother, but not anymore.  
"Then what do you believe?" she asked gently. The shadows lengthened and twisted in the flickering light. They were standing in a corridor, somewhere between the Deep Sanctum, which housed the Worm Sphere, and the Inner Sanctum. Kisrel had almost backed herself against the carpeted walls, feeling the bumps and cracks. He looked so much _bigger_ than her, even though she knew he wasn't. Zavv was just at home here, while she was dwarfed by the Sun Temple. She refused to cower though, holding on to her pride. He took a long time to answer, contemplating her with keen emerald eyes, half shrouded in darkness.  
"I believe," he began, with no uncertainty, "that no Spiran should be placed above another. I believe that Yuna, though a great woman, was only that. I don't think she would have wanted _wars_ fought for her."  
Kisrel flinched. The Holy Wars were rarely mentioned, a blemish on the otherwise untainted reign of the Priests. But that didn't mean they hadn't happened.  
Kisrel nodded.  
"I intend to prove it. I will find more historic records-TRUE records-of Yuna's adventures, and uncover the Temple's secrets."  
Zavv shook his head.  
"You can't. It's so big, it would swallow you up."  
Exactly what Kisrel was afraid of. But she didn't tell him that.  
"I don't care. I will continue."  
Zavv sucked in a breath. Then he removed his Family Sphere from his coat. Kisrel's eyes widened as he placed it in her hands.  
"_Syo drec kieta oui uh ouin zuinhao_," he whispered. Kisrel didn't understand what he had said, but she nodded, and placed the Sphere in her rucksack. Then without another word, she left.

Outside, she was presented with some rations by a few Al Bhed matrons who wished her well in their foreign language. She nodded in thanks to each, until she came to Dom. Who obviously wasn't shedding any tears over Kisrel's departure.  
Shoving a map in Kisrel's face she muttered, as if she had been ordered too:  
"_Syo dra cih creha uh ouin dnyjamc yht kuut vundiha vummuf oui ajanofrana oui ku_."  
Kisrel didn't answer her, she was looking past her. At the Gates. They opened with the noise of a shoopuf, groaning and creaking as the mechanism moved the bronze monstrosities. Giving her-her freedom.  
She took one uncertain step. It took most of her will not to look back. Who were these people to her anyway? She didn't know them, she shouldn't feel anything. So she didn't look back. Not as she ran forward, not as she passed through the open Gates, not as they closed behind her.  
She never looked back.


	7. Chapter 7

**_Part Two _**

_Her legs burned and her chest heaved. If they found her... She tripped over a rock and tumbled down a hill, her long hair tangling, mercilessly. Sobs racked her body, but she refused to stop. Get away..._

_There were the gates-YES! She was free. For the moment, unless they caught her. But no, she wouldn't let them, she had come too far. She would make this her story, HER destiny...and NO one would stop her..._

Not even the owner of the eyes that watched her from a distance, since she was unaware of their presence. But watch her they did...

Kisrel made good speed on her first day, easily finding her way back onto the High Road. The map which Dom had reluctantly graced her with, was strangely marked, and difficult to read, since Kisrel didn't understand Al Bhed.

She guessed that she was on the road to the Old Djose Temple. This concerned her a little, because it meant, she would have to go the long way around to Macalania. Not only that, but the entire area was not one to be traveled lightly.

"At least, I don't have to go to Guadosalam," she muttered, thankfully.

_Why is this happening? I wish you were here with me.  
Everything is connected.  
What could be waiting where the threads meet?_

Kisrel sat up from her uncomfortable bed. She had walked down the Highroad all day, finally stopping to rest after the sun had sunk low in the sky. She had found a boulder, out of sight of the road and had just planned to lie down to nap on it. But when she awoke, the sun had again risen, illuminating the long journey ahead of her. She ate a meager breakfast, then set out, determined to at least make it to Dra Suuhvmuf...wherever that was. A breeze came up, and she shivered involuntarily.

Perhaps it was because of her short stay with the Al Bhed, but Kisrel suddenly felt acutely alone. Still, she brushed the thought away like a parasite and kept moving.

It was about this time that she heard the scream.

_They had found her, she was sure of it. They were right there-ready to drag her back. A cry, held back for so long ripped from her throat, and she felt a hard pressure on her back, bearing her to the ground. A hand clamped over her mouth, cutting off her circulation. She spasmed in shock and pain, but the person did not hurt her._

**_What were they waiting for?_**

_When she finally stopped struggling, the grip on her relaxed, slightly._

_"I'm going to let you up now, but only if you promise to be still. I have no interest in carrying you. Do you understand?"_

_She nodded and finally opened her eyes, which she had been squeezing shut, hoping it was all just a nightmare._

_But the face above her was not the one she had expected._

_It was obviously a man. He rocked back on his haunches and she quickly moved away, hugging her knees to her chest and staring at him like a moogle in the face of a killer hound._

_His hair was dark, but had been bleached lighter in the sun. His face was lined with years of hardship and toil but his eyes were the most captivating feature. A pure yellow not bright like the sun, but darker, like unrefined gold._

_Wolf's eyes._

_She swolled a sob, and asked, her voice cracking from strain:_

_"Who are you? What do you want with me?"_

_He stood up, sheathing a sword she hadn't even realized he had, and held out his hand. Warily, she took it._

_Standing on level ground he was a almost a good foot taller than her. He held his back staight, but when he looked down at her frail form, there was no condescension in his eyes._

_"I'm here to protect you, Princess."_

**_But I'm not a princess. Or am I? That's the benefit of not knowing who your parents are, you can fantasize about mysterious origins. So maybe I am. But who is he?_**

_Now that she was standing she was able to see him more clearly. He wore a long gray coat, the color of the sky over the Thunder Plains. Underneath, he wore a deep vermillion vest and pants, and high black boots. He was an altogether imposing figure. She was about to ask more when-_

"What is going on here?" Kisrel demanded, cresting the hill to find two equally puzzling characters. The young girl spun around, eyes wide. She opened her mouth to answer, but the older man stepped in front and said:

"Nothing that concerns you stranger."

Kisrel crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes narrow pinpoints of silver. The young girl, her eyes glazed with unshed tears, touched the gruff looking man on the arm, and stepped around him, as he fingered the hilt of his blade.

"Please," she begged, "Do not hurt us. I am Lesca, recently escaped from-"she stopped and shuddered. Taking a steadying breath, she continued:

"This is my Guardian..." her voice trailed off in uncertainty.

"Brael."

Kisrel half jumped half-walked down the hill. Lesca's voice matched the scream she had heard just moments before.

She sized them both up, the odd pair. Something was off here, but she couldn't put her finger on it, and Lesca's fear seemed genuine.

"I'm Kisrel. Are you in some kind of trouble?" she wasted no time in asking. Lesca shook her head violently.

"No. I mean-well, not anymore."  
Kisrel didn't like the vague, evasive answer.

"And what are you doing on the HighRoad?"

Brael cut in at this point.

"Are you a Crimson Knight?"

Kisrel swollowed.

"No."

"Then I don't see how our business is your business. Why don't you tell us why YOU are on the Highroad."

Kisrel averted her eyes. She didn't trust them, not like she had the Al Bhed. She didn't feel comfortable telling them her true mission.

"I'm on a mission for the Great Mother," she lied. Lesca clasped her hands.

"Truly? Oh, that is so wonderful!"

"It...is?"

"Oh, yes! I have prayed that the Lady would send someone with which to guide me to my destiny, and look! I have found you!" She sounded so enthusiastic, Kisrel couldn't get a word in.

"Your Highness," Brael issued a warning. Kisrel's head snapped up.

"What?"

Lesca blushed.

"Oh, don't listen to him. It's no big deal really."

Kisrel didn't understand how being royalty could be construed as 'no big deal' but she held her peace. Besides, hadn't she just been wishing she had companions? Well, not really, but perhaps their company would be welcome.

"Very well. I am making for the Macalania Ruins. Do you know how to get there?"

Lesca ran her fingers through her long brown hair.

"Well-no, not really."

"Don't you have a map?" Brael asked, pointing to the one in Kisrel's hand. She scowled at him and answered:

"Yes, but it's in Al Bhed."

He made a sound that was a cross between a growl and a snicker.

"Look, if you're going to come, come. If not, then I take my leave." Kisrel turned on her heel and headed back up the hill.

"Hey! Hey-wait!" Lesca called after, running. Brael walked, briskly but steadily behind her.

And so the second part of Kisrel's journey began.


	8. Chapter 8

Several important aspects of Lesca's personality manifested themselves almost immediately.

First off, she was a _devout _follower of Yu Yuna. It was the kind of blind religous fanatacism that Kisrel despised, yet she found it difficult not to like the young, impressionable woman. She had an engaging quality that affected all those around her, as if she wore the world like a cloak and didn't even realize it. When she talked, people genuinely wanted to listen.

On the opposite side of the river was Brael, who rarely spoke, except words of warning.  
Lesca generally ignored him, but he took care of her every need.

The first day passed quickly, with Lesca talking almost incessantly-about the teachings of Yuna, how much she wanted to see Zanarkand, and so forth.

Kisrel didn't mention the fact that she was from New Zanarkand, especially when she asked Lesca where she was from, and the mysterious girl went very quiet. She would say nothing of what had happened to her to get her on the HighRoad, nor how she had aquired Brael's services.

No fiends attacked, though Brael seemed on constant guard. No marauders came, although now Kisrel felt she was ready to take some on. In fact, the total lack of action or events was beginning to grate on her nerves.

Which is why she should have seen it coming...

_It was a Rukh. A huge creature, with a gray hide and a vicious attitude. It's biggest asset was its ability to turn its victims into stone. And it hadn't eaten in days..._

"Get back!" Brael ordered, brandishing his huge red sword. Lesca immediately obeyed, retreating quickly, and trying to take Kisrel with her. But Kisrel didn't want to back down, despite the fact that she was armed only with her tiny dagger.

Just then a howling was heard, but it didn't come from the monster. Jagged rocks pelted the creature, and it turned, livid towards its new assailants. Brael wasted no time, running forward and driving his sword straight into the Rukh's soft underbelly. It gave a mournfull cry, before collapsing on the ground, kicking up a cloud of light brown dust. When the air cleared, the 'heroes' revealed themselves.

"Zavv? What in Yuna's name are you doing here?"

"You!" Zavv cried, ignoring Kisrel completely and glaring at Lesca, who screamed and dove behind Brael. Who still had his sword aloft, dripping as it was with the Rukh's blood. Dom (who was standing behind Zavv) ran forward, her dagger in her hands. Kisrel could see bloodshed ahead, and stepped in between the two combatants-Dom and Brael-before they killed each other.

"Now wait, just a minute," she ordered, and there was no arguing with that tone of voice.

"They're the ones who kidnapped me!" Lesca sobbed.

"That's because YOU tried to burn down our Temple!" Zavv shot back. Kisrel could see it, another part of his personality. He would stop at very little to protect his home. But Lesca was still hysterical.

"It's not even a true temple, it's a blasphemy."

It was VERY difficult to hold Dom back. She growled curses and profanities at both Lesca and Brael, who had yet to put down his weapon.

"ENOUGH!" Kisrel yelled.

_The world stopped_. She took a few calming breaths.

"Now, I don't care about your personal vendettas. But I won't have you fighting, it's not worth it."

Everyone backed down, but that didn't stop the glares and murderous expressions.

"Lesca," Kisrel spoke soothingly, not something she was use to doing, "You have to understand. Not everyone follows the Lady as you do. We can't fault them for that. If you did try to burn down their Temple, it was withing their rights to hold you prisoner. I don't know if anything was done to you, but I stayed with these people for two days, and was always treated well. I consider them friends, and I won't have you or your guardian trying to start a fight. And as for you," she turned to Dom, and her tone wasn't quite as sweet, "This poor girl is frightened half out of her wits. I understand you want to protect your home but from now on, any violent action has to go through me first, are we clear?"

Dom looked ready to plunge her dagger deep into Kisrel's chest but when she looked at Zavv, who nodded, she backed up, and sheathed it.

"So," Kisrel sounded unusually chipper, "Now that we're all friends, whose going with me?"

The trek was uneventful aside from Kisrel trying to keep Dom away from Lesca.

_Like a story we are_, Kisrel thought, dryly. But in the stories it was always a group of friends bound by affection and a single purpose. Neither of which applied to this band. No one knew the others agenda and to say they were friends would be a lie bordering on blasphemy.

Kisrel had reached a point with Zavv where they weren't pals but she knew him well enough to ignore him. Dom split her time between antagonizing Kisrel to fighting with Lesca who in turn hid behind Brael who generally kept his mouth shut and his eyes open.

From the sky they must have made quite a spectacle. Two golden heads, one raven black, one autumn-honey and one pepper, moving across a tan road set in a dull landscape. At least it would have been dull if not for the varied assortment of fiends running around. Conversation, understandably, was strained to say the least. Occasionally, Lesca would titter about some beautiful flower or try to chat up Kisrel about the teaching of Yuna. This would invariably lead to Dom making some belligerent comment about Yuna's heritage or night activity and if they were lucky, everyone would lapse back into silence. More often though, a shout fest would ensue, thereby attracting all the resident fiends in the vicinity.

"Where did they all come from?" Lesca asked after one particularly ugly encounter involving two red Vespas. Brael grunted that it was just the area but Kisrel sensed something else-something deeper. The next obstacle came in the form of a ravine, a canyon that ripped open the landscape for miles. Kisrel bit back frustration, Dom cursed, Lesca all but passed out from exhaustion and by silent agreement, Brael and Zavv began building a fire. A few minutes later it was crackling just as darkness covered the land. The five companions sat around the small inferno refusing to meet each others eyes. Lesca was the one who broke the silence, spontaneously jumping up and asking: "Who's up for a story?"

Despite the fact she got no answer, Lesca continued on, her voice tinged with an odd mix of excitement and reverence.

"This is the story of Breen and Katya and their tragic love."

Dom snorted, "A Zanarkand love story? That's rich. This I gotta hear."

Lesca pointedly ignored her, saying:

"Katya was a priestess in the order of Yuna, content with her quiet life. That is, until a wounded soldier, injured in the Holy War was delivered ot he Temple doorsteps. Katya was a healer and given charge over him. Under her constant watch and care he was healed of his wounds thoug he would never again be able to fight. When he opened his eyes, first beholding her angelic face, Breen whispered, '_I dreamed of you'_. Katya had rarely been exposed to such flattery and she blushed under his appraising gaze. In time his strength returned and Katya was his ever-present companion. The Reverend Mother indulged them, chalking it up to childish innocence. But the war was still raging and eventually it found its way to the Temple door. Enemy forces demanded that the Priests release their patient, claiming he had important information they wanted. While the Priests stalled, the priestess' got Breen out through the back. He begged Katya to come with him, to run away forever," Lesca paused.

"And did she?" Kisrel demanded, not realizing she'd been so enraptured. Lesca shook her head.

"No. She knew her place was in the Temple. She watched him disappear into the night, never to see him again."

"That was stupid," declared Dom. Lesca shrugged.

"Perhaps it was not the best choice, maybe things would have been different. But then maybe it would have been wrong, because how could Breen trust Katya if she betrayed the Temple when she had followed it her entire life? There is no happy ending, no right answer."

"_People who want happy endings have to write their own_," Kisrel muttered, thinking out loud. Zavv started, but said nothing.

"What's that?" Lesca asked, her voiced piqued with naivete. Kisrel glanced around, suddenly the center of attention.

"Oh. Nothing. Just a mantra of a long dead warrior."

Or all the relationships, perhaps the strangest was Dom and Brael. The Al Bhed had taken a strange liking to the quiet guardian, sitting next to him by the fire, and asking him questions about his life, his connection to Lesca and so on. He gave curt, one word answers most of the time, and when that wouldn't suffice, he would just shrug he broad shoulders, and stare into the fire. Kisrel found it odd, but upon close inspection, found that, in the firelight, Brael didn't look as old as first implied. The gray in his hair seemed more from stress and hardship than age, and once you saw past the scowl, his face wasn't that lined. Kisrel though about joining in on the little interrogation but decided that 1) it wasn't her place and 2) there were some things she didn't want to know, plus 3) she wouldn't like being pestered for answers about herself therefore she let Dom carry on the inquiries. At the rate they were going, it was going to be a long night.


	9. Chapter 9

_(Author's Note: To the ONE person who apparently is reading this, you were right. I didn't finish it because it seemed rather pointless, as no one was reading it. In truth, I started this story last year, when was still around, and people were more interested in reading fanfics involving that game. There were a few people who wanted me to finish it, but I had moved on to new projects, and hadn't had much motivation to. I made the mistake of putting up all eight chapters at once, which I think most people found rather intimidating. _

_Anyway, here is a really short chapter that I whipped up at work for you. Just to see if I could still do it. The story is coming back to me inbits and pieces, and hopefully, I'll find the time to keep this and CoS up. Thanks for reading.)_

And as it turned out, it was. It wasn't the tension, though Yuna knew it was so thick you could have scooped it with a spoon. It wasn't the cold that seeped into the bones, despite the fire that made its best effort to blaze. It wasn't the hard ground, or any other kind of discomfort. It was the silence. Not just regular 'able to tune out backround noise' kind of silence, but the total and complete ABSENCE of any kind of sound. There was nothing, it was like trying to sleep in a void.  
Kisrel lay on her side, facing the fire, watching the flames reach up and around, writhing and twisting in an intricate dance of smoke and cinders. Occasionally, the fire crackled, each pop sounding like a bomb going off, and jarring her nerves. She propped her head up on her arm, letting her eyes rove the camp for the umpteenth time.  
Dom also slept on her side, facing away from the fire, into the open area beyond, curled up in a ball. While Kisrel found it oddly strange, it occured to her that if you had to spend most of your time hiding, you became use to cramped positions. And if you wanted to protect yourself while you slept, you made yourself as small a target as possible.  
Lesca lay on her stomach, one arm covering her face. Next to her, but a respectful distance away, Brael slept on his back, sword resting accessibly by his side.  
Kisrel hadn't seen Zavv for at least four hours. She could only assume that he was scouting the area, keeping watch.  
In a way, Kisrel envied Dom. The young Al Bhed woman could sleep anywhere. Kisrel certainly didn't think of herself as a delicate thing, but her nerves were pulled so tight, she doubted she'd be able to get more than an hour's rest. She rolled over and repositioned herself, then sucked in a breath as she noticed a shape darker than the night around it. Zavv half turned his face towards her, in silent inquiry. She pushed herself up on one arm.  
"When did you get back?" she asked, groggily. He put a finger to his lips, and tilted his head meaningfully in the direction of the other three. Kisrel managed to get vertical without any joints popping, and without the overwhelming sense of vertigo that usually accompanied a rapid rise. She crossed the three feet and stood next to Zavv, mimicking his position, hands clasped behind her back, feet spread apart, as if standing at attention.  
"Is there anything out there?" she asked, rather pointlessly. He shook his head, blonde hair a burning red in the firelight. Long moments passed in silence, but it was comfortable. At least, at the moment, they were probably one of the only two people who didn't want to kill each other. It wasn't hard for Kisrel to sense though that he was still upset with her, and this tentative peace was as tenous as a spider's web. But the best thing about being hunted by non-human beings...it just didn't feel right to kill your own species.  
Finally, he glanced down at her out of the corner of his eyes.  
"You should be sleeping," he reminded her, softly. She shrugged, non-commitally, not wanting to admit her insomnia. The flames died down to glowing coals, bringing out more shadows, enhancing the contours of faces, making all appear gaunt, with sunken eyes. All except for Lesca, who apparently was able to wrap her serenity around herself like a security blanket. "You think she was born that age, and she'll stay that way eternally? The perfect follower," Kisrel mused. Zavv snorted, making his views chrystal clear. She shot a glance at him, the sides of her mouth almost turning upward.  
"Are you going to stand guard all night?" she asked, concerned. He nodded, face set in stone, brooking no argument or discussion. Kisrel shook his head. If there was one thing the Al Bhed had, it was stubborness. Probably how they had managed to survive for so long. Kisrel still had to consciously supress her prejudice against the Al Bhed, it was ingrained so hard into her upbringing.  
_Oh well,_ she thought. _It's still better than Guado, right?_

She stood there for a little while longer, mainly out of defiance, before eventually lying back down, trying to soak in the last dissipating heat of the fire.  
Eventually, her eyes closed and the world, with all its dangers, faded off into oblivion.


	10. Chapter 10

_(Author's Note: Already everyone, I did TRY to get this formatted with double spacing and all the indentation and everything, but every time I save it, it goes back to being the same thing, and I don't want to mess with it anymore. I'm afraid this is about as elaborate as it's going to get. My deepest apologies)_

The shrieking began at dawn.

Kisrel started, rolled on what was left of the smoldering coals, bit back a cry

of pain and was on her feet before the origin of the sound had even

registered.

The first one up, her eyes roved the campsite, taking stock of who was there.

Dom's eyes flew open, pupils becoming pinpoints lost in emeralds in the

increasing light.

"Zavv?" Dom called, foremost concern apparent. It took both of them calling

his name several times before the last true male Al Bhed made his

appearance, rubbing a hand roughly over his face. Kisrel would have felt a

pang of sympathy if she wasn't so vexed. He may have been up all night, but

if he couldn't be counted on when the time came…

By that time, Lesca and Brael (Kisrel had come to think of them as one entity,

the guardian warrior stayed by her side so doggedly) had arisen and were

looking to Kisrel, quizzically.

They were all there and accounted for.

"Who…what is that?" Lesca moaned, a trembling hand lifted to a quivering

mouth. Another spine melting scream split through the air, making everyone

jump.

"This way!" Zavv roared, breaking into a dead run. The rest trailed after

him, following the sounds of distress.

Though most of the hills in this area were rolling and smooth, a steep bald

mountain of a rise came up before them. They slipped, stumbled and hustled

up the slick surface as quickly as rubber legs could carry them. At the top of

the Ridge, everyone stopped, as if they'd rammed into a glass wall.

Kisrel sucked in a sharp breathe; Zavv made a strangled feral cry in the

bottom of his throat. Lesca chanted a prayer, heartfelt, but in total disbelief at

what her eyes were seing.

"Yuna, merciful guardian…"

"Zavv," Dom breathed, "Oh, Zavv, the children…"

For below them, a gruesome tableau unfolded.

At one time, it had been a settlement, not even a proper village, just a few

families clustered together. At one time, a wall (really more like a glorified

picket fence) had surrounded the settlement, providing the illusion of safety.

At one time, kids would have played in dark soil gardens, blessedly

oblivious to the world around them.

Now…

Now the settlement lay in ruins, what few huts and hovels were left were

missing roofs or walls. The surrounding wall had been laughingly tossed

aside, then splintered into twigs to show just how big a joke it really was.

And everything, from the gardens to the water jugs, all of it…was burning.

At first, none of it made sense, and every member of the estranged party

wondered if they hadn't woken up from some surreal dream.

Nothing moved, save when a roof finally caved in, but the screaming

continued, as if the wind itself was crying in unheeded agony.

Then Kisrel saw what had filled Dom with such horror. There were a group

of kids, ranging from late teens to toddlers, feeling the carnage. The bigger

ones led or rear-guarded the smaller ones, goading them on, throwing frantic

glances over their shoulders.

"Where are the adults? If they're all dead, where are the bodies?" Kisrel

asked. As if to answer her, a man, bleeding profusely from the leg, staggered

into their field of vision. He too, seemed desperate to escape something that

they couldn't see…until it came after him.

'It' didn't appear very large at first, running on four limbs, spine arched at an

impossible angle. It wasn't until it lunged, stretching itself out for more

speed that you realized its length. Razor fangs, at least four inches long,

protruded from its mouth, sticking almost straight out. Short spines ran along

its back, tapering into a stubby tail. Its hide appeared to be leathery, hard and

rugged. It's limp ended in a vaguely hand-like extremity, but each 'finger'

was equipped with a wickedly curved talon. It bored own on the doomed

man; injured as he was, he stood no chance against it, and it took him to the

ground in a cloud of dust.

"We must do something!" Lesca cried, but neither she nor anyone else moved

from their position. They were frozen in shock, disbelief, horror and dread,

because somewhere in the back of their minds they knew exactly what was

going to happen.

The man didn't die. Or perhaps he did die, only no one informed his body. It

arced upwards, at an angle no human could endure. There was a gut

wrenching tearing noise, and then the man's torso ripped open, dripping red

ribs glaring in the light. Lesca shrieked and hid her face in Brael's chest,

unable to deal with the macabre sight any longer. It was best for her, too,

because it didn't end there. The ribs, even though they were bone, bent

outward, turning the still thrashing form inside out. There was a crash of

thunder, but the sky was clear. A burst of light blinded the onlookers, and

when they were able to see again, the man and all that he had been, was no

more. Instead, there was only a new, bloodthirsty, roaring monster, desperate

for killing.

The paralysis that had taken hold of them all faded. Lesca dried her eyes

with the back of her hand, an oddly comforting, if childish gesture.

"Zavv, we can't just leave the children to be slaughtered," Dom said, firmly.

Kisrel glanced at her, a bit surprised. She hadn't thought that the beautiful Al

bhed maiden had such altruistic instincts. Hating to seem like an ogre, but

needing to be the voice of reason, Kisrel intoned:

"But is it possible for us, five that we are, to take on what use to be the

ENTIRE village?"

Dom snorted, sounding more like her usual self.

"That's assuming her Royal Highness here could even fend for herself. Or

you, for that matter," she sneered. Kisrel folded her arms over her chest in a

silent challenge. Lesca dusted off her skirt, looking even more feminine than

usual.

"Don't worry about me, Miss Dom. I do know one or two things BESIDES

how to dispose of blasphemes t-"

Zavv put out an iron bar of an arm to stop Dom before she leveled Lesca.

His eyes raged azure fire though. Kisrel glanced back at the battlefield

below.

"This is doing nothing to help them. Now we all have to go together, so

LET'S GO."

The last two words were laced heavily with command, and the others

responded, snapping to attention, and putting aside their petty altercations.

Going down the Ridge was far faster, and in its own way, far easier, than

going up had been. A few times, the rocks would slide loose, and one of

them would tumble, rolling over and over down the hill, before picking

themselves up and resuming their run.

When they were still yards away, the smell hit them, almost knocking them

backwards, so strong, it was like a physical force unto itself. It was a mix of

life and death, of past and present, joy and carnage. And the shrieking in the

air never stopped…

They trudged on, all senses put on hyper awareness. A sound would be

heard, and they'd all whirl, ready to face an oncoming attacker, only to find

out it was just a piece of debris falling, or something breaking. It was fraying

all their nerves, but they didn't dare let down their guard, even for a moment.

No one wanted to be turned into a monster.

The screaming stopped, or at least quieted enough, so that now it resembled

a pitiful whisper…a crying in the dark.

"What is making that sound?" Kisrel asked, her eyes scanning for its source.

Lesca delicately raised one shoulder.

"Perhaps it is the souls of those who have been destroyed here."

Dom gave her a 'You're not helping' look, but was otherwise silent.

They eventually reached the last place they had seen the children, and as they

entered the clearing, they picked up the pace, determined to reach their

quarry before the demonic creatures did. The last of the buildings, more

accurately, ruins, behind them, the five took quick stock of their

surroundings. The valley was empty, and nothing stirred on its surface.

Then suddenly, Zavv smiled. Kisrel looked at him, exasperated. He found the

oddest things humorous. He winked at her and put a finger to his lips, then

stealthily moved ahead. The rest stayed behind and watched in a mix of

bemusement and annoyance. He was just a lone figure, striding out,

completely exposed. Then suddenly, he swooped down, and picked up what

looked to be just a clump of dirt. A trap door swung open, and several high

pitched voices screamed. Zavv knelt beside the opening. From their position,

his companions couldn't hear what he spoke to them, but it quieted them

down significantly, and then he carefully put the trapdoor back down, before

returning to his bewildered fellows.

"What-how…?" Lesca couldn't even get the questions out coherently. He

gave her a brilliant smile, shrugged and said:

"I'm an Al Bhed, I know how to hide. And a lot of settlements like this one

had special hiding places in case of raids by marauders or-" he glanced at

Lesca and his smile faltered just a bit, "-other people who might wish them

harm."

Her innocent expression let them know she had no idea what he was

referring to. He shrugged again.

"It was just a matter of finding the right patch of dirt."

"What did you tell them?" Kisrel inquired. Zavv's eyes hardened.

"To stay where they were until it was safe. Until we had dispatched the…

monsters."

"Do they know what they are? Or what they use to be?" Brael spoke for the

first time. Zavv shook his head.

"I don't think so."

Brael hefted his sword.

"Then let's get this done with and pray they never find out."


End file.
